Ribcaged
by I HEART JATAE
Summary: Fainting in the halls, refusing to eat chocolate, and bones sticking out all over.... What's wrong with Draco, and how does it involve Ron? SLASH, Ron/Draco. Rated for language and raunchy stuff. CHAPTER FIVE UP.
1. Not Pie

Author's Note: Well, this is my first Harry Potter fic that is intended to have chapters. Not much to say, except that i don't precisely know how this will end, so suggestments would be helpful. I don't normally dedicate my fics, but i want to dedicate this to anyone who's ever suffered through an eating disorder. I know i have. Several times. I still do, and i always will, in some way. It's really not fun, especially not when you're watching someone else going through it, which i have. Please, you guys, talk to the people you love-- it helps a lot, eating disorder or not. Ahem. Okay, Rowling owns all the characters and everything, et cetera. You've seen the warning before, i'm sure of it. On with the show!  
  
*****  
  
"Why is he like that?"  
  
Harry looked up at his best friend. "Sorry?" Ron just continued watching something across the room with complete disgust.  
  
"Look at him, he's turned his nose up at everything on his plate!"  
  
"Who?" Harry followed Ron's glare, but the Great Hall was too crammed with students to figure out who the red-head was so angry at without said red- head actually telling who it was. ((A/N: did that make any sense...?))  
  
"What right has he got to be picky, anyway? It's not as though he's paid for that food...!"  
  
"Ron, who are you talking about?" Hermione asked, growing curious as well.  
  
"Malfoy!" He said it as though it ought to be completely obvious. "He's looking at his plate like it's got leeches!"  
  
"Ron, calm down," Hermione shushed, not wanting him to cause a scene. "It's not that big a deal..."  
  
"And we had steak tonight, and pie," Ron continued. "Boston cream pie! I LOVE Boston cream pie!"  
  
"Ron, we've got plenty of pie," Harry assured him, gesturing toward the plate in the middle of the table.  
  
"Do you know how much I'd like to eat pie and steak at my house? What the hell's wrong with him?!"  
  
"Um, Ron," Hermione said quietly, "you can have my pie if you want..."  
  
"This isn't about pie!" Now Ron WAS causing a scene.  
  
Harry blinked. Why was he yelling about pie if his anger had nothing to do with pie? "So what's it about then?"  
  
Ron fumed silently a few moments. His two best friends exchanged worried glances-- they'd never seen Ron this enraged about (not) pie. But Ron just sighed, shook his head, and stood from the table. "I'm going back to the common room."  
  
Neither of his friends dared to mention the Boston cream pie that sat on his plate, untouched.  
  
*  
  
Ron paced down the corridors furiously. He paid no attention to where he was going-- he didn't even notice when he'd gone in a complete circle, passing through the Entrance Hall for a second time. The nerve of that stupid, rich, snobby, good-looking-- Crap! No! Ron was straight! Straight as could be. He'd never liked boys before, why start now with some uppity little blond in tight jeans?  
  
"Weasel! What're you doing down here?"  
  
Ron spun around to face the source of the voice and realized he was in the dungeons. How, exactly, he'd gotten there, he did not know, and did not care to know when a certain frail-looking Slytherin was leaning against a wall in front of him, for once, CrabbeAndGoyle-less.  
  
"Last I checked, Malfoy, there weren't any rules about walking through the halls of the school!" Ron could feel his cheeks flushing. He told himself it was from anger.  
  
Malfoy raised an eyebrow and stood to his full height, which wasn't much. "There ARE rules about wandering the halls after dark, Weasel," he stated, eyeing the redhead. "Be a good boy and storm back to your Common Room."  
  
Ron bristled. What was it about Draco that made him so angry? "Why don't you MAKE me, Draco?" He didn't care how stupid or childish he sounded-- it was a lot harder for him to question his sexuality when the only boy he'd ever felt any sort of physical attraction to had a broken nose and missing teeth.  
  
Draco's face tighted along with his fists, and he started towards Ron, only to stop after a few steps. He swayed on his feet and kept his eyes focused a spot behind Ron's left ear, as if he were trying to keep his balance. But it was, apparently, to no avail. Ron watched in suprise as gray eyes rolled upwards and bony knees buckled. Without thinking, the freckled wizard jumped forward and caught the limp form just before it hit the floor.  
  
For a few seconds, Ron just stood there; dazed, worried out of his mind, and momentarily unsure of what to do. Then, using nearly all of his strength (which, to be honest, wasn't much), he lifted Draco into his arms, cradling him like a baby as he ran towards the hospital wing.  
  
*****  
  
A/N: Woopwoop. That was pretty short, but suspense is fun, it makes people review! ^.^ 


	2. Back In The Closet

A/N: Yay! I got reviews! I must say, i was worried i wouldn't, because i posted it on New Year's Eve, and everyone was out partying while i was either watching Don't Say A Word (i just love Brittany Murphy) or re- working the HTML on my site while worrying about whether or not i'd get any reviews. Yeah, i have no life. Heh. Anywho, Rowling owns everything, don't sue me, i live inside a watermelon, et cetera. By the way... the Clear Hearts, Gray Flowers album by Jack Off Jill has some of the greatest self- infliction/eating disorder lyrics i've ever seen, even if they maybe aren't meant that way. God, i love that cd.  
  
Thanks millions to those who reviewed, keep it up! And in response...  
  
Bronz-- Whee! Thanky so much! I'm always really spazzy and stressed about whether or not everyone's in character, so i'm extremely happy with and complimented by your review. ^__^  
  
WildfireFriendship-- I actually didn't even like Ron/Draco slash until i took a nap one day about a week ago while working on a Harry/Draco fic and had a dream in which i witnessed Ron and Draco doing naughty things in a bathroom (insert elementary-school-level tittering). I awoke a huge Ron/Draco shipper... i think that's one of the wierdest dream-related things that's ever happened to me. As for what's happening with Draco... Well, either you'll figure it out soon, or the shock value will be wonderful when i openly reveal it, which will probably be sometime in Three.  
  
Mort-- Hee, thankies! I love pie. It's one of my favourite words. Apparently i make really yummy Key Lime Pie. I once tried making Boston Cream Pie, but the cakey part cooked wrong and it tasted like scrambled eggs in some places and flour in others O.o;;; The custard part was good, though. Ack, getting off the point, as usual.... Anyway, thanks!  
  
Gisele S. Carvalho-- Thank you so much! And, yes, Ron and Draco are just too cute as a couple to not write fanfiction about them, particularly if you love them both to pieces the way i do! :D  
  
KT the Shimmer Skank: Yay! As i've stated in other stories, reviews put me in a writey mood. ^_^  
  
*****  
  
CHAPTER TWO  
  
Back In The Closet  
  
*****  
  
Ron burst through the hospital wing's doors (he probably would have kicked them open if he hadn't been afraid of losing his balance), panting and looking around for Madame Pomfrey. Upon her immediate absence, Ron walked as quickly as he could to one of the beds.  
  
"Pomfrey!" he bellowed, not taking his eyes off the unconscious form in front of him.  
  
"Stop shouting, Ron! I'm right here." She hurried over to the bedside, a look of what might have been relief crossing her worn face when she saw Draco. "Oh, good, it's just him. I was afraid it was something serious, with you yelling like that...!"  
  
Ron's eyebrows knitted together. This WAS serious. "What's wrong with him, then? Why did he faint?"  
  
Madame Pomfrey had just bustled into her office, and was now returning with a slab of chocolate the size of Draco's torso. Ron's eyes widened. "Draco is anemic," she informed him. "And incredibly picky-- eats like a bird, this one. Did you notice whether he ate any dinner tonight?"  
  
Ron was salivating. He LOVED chocolate. "No, he turned his nose up at it all." Pomfrey nodded and sighed, ignoring Ron's hungry sidelong glances at the sweet dessert. Surely Malfoy couldn't eat all that...? And if Ron just HAPPENED to be waiting there when he finished...  
  
"Can I stay here with him, Madame Pomfrey?"  
  
The nurse gave him an odd look-- she knew how much they disliked eachother. But in the end, she nodded, telling him to make sure Draco ate the chocolate when he woke up.  
  
Ron didn't have to wait long. Barely thirty seconds after he heard Pomfrey's office door close, the once limp form on the bed stirred. Ron straightened in his seat. For a moment, he thought that maybe the reason he felt... something (whether in his head, heart, or trousers) for the blond was that Draco was so PRETTY. Lithe and effeminate and almost cat- like, he was probably one of the most un-masculine guys he'd ever met who wasn't openly fruity. This was, of course, directly before he shook away any and all CuteDracoGiggleGiggle thoughts, then shoved them back into the closet they'd always seemed so happy in before.  
  
The red head watched in hungry ((A/N: for chocolate, you sickos!)) and distracted fascination as ridiculously long eyelashes fluttered against baby-powder cheeks. DARK eyelashes, which made Ron think that the cocky Slytherin either dyed his hair or was wearing mascara. Knowing the Malfoy family, the former would probably get him better blackmail money.  
  
"What are YOU doing here, Weasel?"  
  
Ron jumped. Oh yeah, he'd been stirring....  
  
"Um, Pomfrey wanted me to make sure you ate your chocolate..." The lazy gray eyes looked suddenly apprehensive, stealing a glance at the large confectionary object on the bedside table.  
  
"I'm not eating that," he said. Ron was suprised by his tone-- not sneering and pompous, but declarative and matter-of-fact. Ron cocked his head.  
  
"Why not?" Draco looked apprehensive again, almost to the point of being frightened, but Ron overlooked it because he immediately went back to his usual snotty demeanor.  
  
"I don't LIKE chocolate," he declared, sticking his nose into the air. Ron scowled.  
  
"You don't like ANYTHING, Malfoy," Ron growled. Good. Now he could be angry again, and CuteDracoGiggleGiggle thoughts just don't mix with StupidPretensiousLittleGit thoughts.  
  
"Well, I certainly don't like YOU!" /The Malfoy protests too much, methinks,*/ said some obnoxious little voice in the back of his head. He shoved it into the closet, too.  
  
"I don't like YOU either!" There was plenty of banging and profanities coming from the closet. Honesty tried to sneak over and set the thoughts free, but it was forced inside as well. The closet was getting crowded.  
  
"Fine!"  
  
"Fine!"  
  
"Leave, then!"  
  
"I will!"  
  
"I'm glad!"  
  
But Ron didn't leave. And Draco looked anything but glad. They remained in their places, eyes locked and blazing, before Hunger came bumbling in and told Ron to ask about the chocolate.  
  
"Can I have your chocolate, then?" he demanded, trying to sound as vindictive and intimidating as possible, which ended up not being very vindictive or intimidating at all.  
  
Draco looked suprised, then... was that.... grateful? "You want it?" he asked, as if to make sure he weren't hearing things. Ron nodded, confused as to why taking his chocolate was such a favor to Draco. Mist-coloured eyes darted toward the candy, then to the Gryffindor, then back again.  
  
"Take it," he said, eyes still locked on the gigantic chocolate bar. "But not all of it, or she'll know you took it. Break off a little more than half of it, then break off smaller pices along the edge so it looks like I've been breaking off small pieces and eating them."  
  
Ron's eyebrows were currently placed in the Quizzical area of his forehead. "Paranoid much?"  
  
Draco glared. "Do you WANT to get caught stealing my chocolate?" he spat.  
  
"I'm not stealing it, you're giving it to me!"  
  
"That's not what Madame Pomfrey will hear!"  
  
Ron looked momentarily dumbstruck. What the hell was wrong with this kid...? "Malfoy, I don't know what the hell your probelm is, but it looked to me like you want me to take the bloody chocolate, which I can't figure out, and now you're threatening to get me in trouble if I don't do it perfectly, which, true to your personality as it may be, I can't figure out either. What's the big deal, anyhow?"  
  
Malfoy scowled a moment, then looked down at the pale, bony hands folded delicately on his knees. "If... if she knows I gave you the chocolate, she'll sit here and make SURE I eat it. She'll force-feed me if I refuse long enough, it's happened..." Draco trailed off, looking ashamed. Ron gaped at him. Force-feed? He couldn't imagine anyone hating chocolate so much as to have it force-fed to them... Ron was dying to ask something, anything, but the look of guilt and complete depression on the aristocatic features stopped him. While the freckled wizard was distracted, Sympathy opened the closet door, and Ron suddenly had the overwhelming urge to gather the skinny boy into his arms and just hold him until they both fell asleep that way. But, thankfully, Embarassment and Sensibility kept him from doing so.  
  
Still, Sympathy was nagging, so Ron settled for placing a comforting hand on Draco's shoulder. The Slytherin jumped at the sudden physical contact, and looked up quickly. Confused. Their eyes locked once more, but there was no anger present. Fear, sorrow, and possibly a trace of excitement at the warmth flowing between them.  
  
Ron gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile before breaking the chocolate into two deliberately unequal pieces, snapping three extra palm-sized chunks off the smaller piece, then turning to leave the room.  
  
*****  
  
A/N: Mweet, tis done now! A little longer this time, i think. Still short, tho. More to come, but i expect summore friggin' reviews for this chapter, dammit!  
  
* "The lady protests too much, methinks." -- Hamlet: III, ii by Willy Shakespeare. Ron probably hasn't read any Shakespeare, as he's a Muggle writer (as far as i know o.o;;), but i'm sure Hermione has, and probably quotes him often. I love using that quote, along with my best shit-eating grin. ^_^ 


	3. Bloody Toothpick

A/N: Chapter three, at last. I don't really like this chapter, it's not written very well, and people are kinda OOC, methinks... And i ran out of synonyms for "chocolate". Sigh. This was difficult to write, because i've never actually stood on the outside and looked in when it comes to eating disorders. I mean, i've looked out at normal people, and i've looked through at other e.d. people, but i've never known someone with one when i didn't have one... which may be because i've had some kind of e.d. ever since fifth grade. Err, i think i've got a serious case of T.M.I. right now, so i'll just stop babbling. My room smells like yogurt. Ooh, and thanks to more reviews!!  
  
WildfireFriendship: Yeah, i love ff.net to pieces, but sometimes it just plain pisses the hell outta me. I'm really happy you liked it, it makes me feel all squishy and fuzzly inside! And Draco is SO the uke. XD  
  
hyalite: Thanks much, i'm glad! :)  
  
HugeTolkeinFan: Err, was that a good review or not? Or am i just being an airhead, as usual? Bah. Well thanks for the honesty (i'm paranoid about people being overly nice to make me feel better, etc.). I'll take your review as a compliment, so muchas gracias! ^_^  
  
KT the Shimmer Skank: Yay! Again, i stress about OOC-ness, so i'm really happy you think everyone's IC. The anemic thing is actually something i added in to avoid suspision from other Hogwartsians about the.... well, you'll see. ;)  
  
Absinthe Sythe: Thank you so much! I love that kind of Draco too. And you guessed right, muahaha!  
  
Lacey: Merci, chere! Suspense is my favourite writing tool, mweehehe.  
  
Bronz: I think all reviewers ought to be thanked! But these long, personal responses may have to stop if i start getting like, more than a dozen reviews per chapter. Which won't happen anyway, but.... you know. I'm so happy you like it so far! And i was trying to describe Draco normally, but i just CANNOT see Draco having blonde eyelashes, but dark ones make no biological sense with his hair colour. Add that to how feminine he is and how unusual his hair colour is.... well, yeah. Heh.  
  
Aloh Dark: Whee, your review put me in a really nice mood after my dad yelled at me, so thank you ever so!! ^___^ You're making sense to meeee, but mebbe that's cuz i'm just wierd.... I don't quote Billy Shakey-spear often, but i love that particular quote, and i've memorized almost the entire balcony scene from R&J as well as the "Double double, toil and trouble" thing from Macbeth. Muahahahahaa!!  
  
*****  
  
Ron stepped through the portrait hole considerably more cheerful than he was a half hour ago, the chocolate broken into smaller chunks and netsling safely in three of his pockets. A foot-long piece was clutched in his hands, and he was, literally, biting off more than he could chew.  
  
"Where've you been?" Hermione demanded, leaping up from the table at which she and Harry were studying.  
  
"Where'd you get that from?" Harry asked at the same time, also rising to greet his friend, though more slowly. "You're going to share, right?" He reached out, intending to snap off a corner of the giant candybar.  
  
"Malfoy gave it to me," Ron informed them once he'd chewed enough to speak. Harry jerked his hand away as though Ron were holding a cobra and not a second dessert.  
  
"Why?" Harry sounded suspicious to the point of being paranoid. Ron didn't really seem to notice as he languidly made his way to an armchair.  
  
"Didn't want it," the Weasley son stated simply, shrugging. Harry's eyes narrowed while Hermione darted forward and snatched the chocolate from freckled fingers. "Hey!"  
  
"What's wrong with you?" she scolded. "He's done something to it, hasn't he? It's hexed, or it's got some potion on it, I just know it! I could find out, I just need to check..." Hermione continued mumbling to herself as she paced up to her dorm room, candy in hand. Ron shrugged and pulled another, smaller piece from his pocket.  
  
"He didn't do anything to it, Madam Pomfrey gave it to him and he didn't want it."  
  
Harry's eye's narrowed further. "But how do you KNOW?"  
  
Ron sent him a bored look. "Because I was there when she gave it to him, stupid." He returned to the sugared joy in his hands. When he had chocolate, everything was right in the world.  
  
Harry made a face. "There? Why were you in the hospital wing?"  
  
"He fainted in the hall, 'cause he's anemic. I took him there."  
  
"Why didn't he want the chocolate?"  
  
Ron shrugged again. "Said he doesn't like chocolate. He was real insistant about not eating it, said that Pomfrey's had to force-feed it to him a couple times."  
  
Harry looked confused. "Force-feed? Why would she have to force-feed..." He trailed off, a look of realization and something near horror going unnoticed as it crossed his features. He looked up at Ron, who continued innocently nibbling at his favourite treat.  
  
"Ron," Harry said, swallowing, "did he seem... scared? Of the chocolate?"  
  
Ron looked at him oddly. Harry thought, for a fleeting moment, that it was because the question sounded so strange, but Ron responded as Harry hoped he wouldn't. "Yeah, how'd you know? It was the wierdest thing, really..."  
  
"And he didn't eat any dinner..." Harry muttered, eyes darting back and forth in deep thought.  
  
"He seemed almost grateful when I said I wanted it." Ron babbled on, ignoring his friend.  
  
"He's anemic... But they almost always are, I mean it makes sense..."  
  
"Real specific about making sure it was broken off just the right way, so they'd think he ate it all."  
  
"And the fainting... he probably hasn't eaten all day..."  
  
"What d'you think's going on, Harry?"  
  
"And he's so SKINNY, it all makes so much sense..."  
  
"Harry, hello!" Ron waved a messy hand in front of his best friend's face trying to get his attention. Harry jumped.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"What's up with Malfoy?" Harry suddenly looked excrutiatingly serious. He leaned forward and looked at Ron as directly as possible.  
  
"Ron... I think that Malfoy is... I think he's anorexic."  
  
Ron looked at him blankly, as though waiting for him to continue. Harry blinked. He knew that there were differences between the Wizarding world and that of muggles, but... Harry shook his head. "You don't know what that is, do you?"  
  
"Um... no... But I think you'll probably tell me."  
  
Harry stood, running a hand nervously through his hair and searching for the best way to explain this. He'd read about it in a parenting book that Aunt Petunia had thrown out, but couldn't remember precisely what it had said. "It's... an eating disorder. See, when people think they're fat--"  
  
"Draco isn't fat," Ron said defensively.  
  
"I know," Harry continued, unfazed, "that's the problem. He thinks he's fat."  
  
Ron looked Harry like he might be insane. "How could he possibly think something like that? He's... he's a bloody toothpick! He's got bones sticking out all over!"  
  
"I know that!" Harry sounded angry, frustrated, as though he were speaking of a brother and not an enemy. "It's a problem, inside his head. He thinks he's fat, so he starves himself to get rid of something that's not there. But he'll never be thin enough to satisfy himself, and he'll keep feeling more and more ugly and worthless. It's just and endless depression... I wouldn't be suprised if he's considered killing himself."  
  
Silence spanned between them like an icy lake. Ron stared at Harry, who stared into the crackling fire.  
  
"But... he's not going to, right?" Ron sounded terrified at the prospect. "He... he wouldn't do that!" Harry looked up at him, his eyes as solemn as death itself.  
  
"If he doesn't get help, this'll kill him. He'll starve himself to death."  
  
Ron's eyes were the size of saucers. The chocolate lay abandoned on the floor. He felt like he was going to throw up-- how could he have taken it from Draco? He should have stayed there, talked to him, ORDERED him to eat it... He glared at the wicked sweet thing on the floor.  
  
Harry could read the look on Ron's face. "It's not your fault," he said reassuringly. "There's nothing you could have done. You didn't know."  
  
Ron looked up at him, still horrified but slightly comforted. "This thing, eating disorder... how does it start?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "Maybe he used to be fat, and decided to lose weight and it got out of hand. Or he could be a perfectionist, or he might have abusive parents and wanted to be good enough for them... There's a million possibilities, and none of them really explain anything."  
  
Ron stood up. "I've got to go talk to him! I mean, if I could figure out the reason for all this--"  
  
"There isn't a reason, Ron. Don't go looking for one. Giving something a reason just makes it okay. Draco is NOT okay. He needs help."  
  
Ron continued to stand there. He vaguely wondered when Harry had gotten so deep and wise and philosophical. Why was Harry so worried about Draco, anyhow? And when had they started talking about him on a first-name basis? Ron shook his head and turned toward the stairs to the dormitory. Tomorrow. He'd talk to Draco tomorrow. Tomorrow was always good-- no matter how much you worry or hope that it won't come, it always does.  
  
*****  
  
A/N: Ahh, that shitty excuse for a chapter is over...! Now remember: the more reviews i get, the more encouraged i will be. And the more encouraged i be, the better the chapter is. 


	4. BAD question

A/N: Ack, sorry for the wait, folks! I been busy working on other stuffs and i had finals last week and a bit of a block... But all is well for the moment! And this chapter is good and long and SLASHY!! Whee! Lots of hormones racing about, hee. ^_^ I own nothing, not even myself because i'm not yet 18 *grumble*  
  
I don't have time or space at the moment to give each reviewer a real response-- sorry! But thanks much to Addy-Chan (who i apparently FORGOT to respond to last chapter... sorry hon!), Zahrah Radcliffe, Lucky, redroe23102, WildfireFriendship, Ken's Dark Angel, Liana Greenleaf, Izzy- Chan, eat mang0 (i know chocolate wouldn't aleviate anemia... really there's no cure for anemia if you're born with it, i think, but i figgered that it would at least revive him, and i needed some way to clue in to his E.D.), Young Padfoot, Aloh Dark, Bronz, Lothlorien, Snarlina (hi sweetie! ^_^), Linteloteiel the Elf Slut, Makota, HugeTolkeinFan (lol dun worry, it wasn't like a bitch review or anything, it just had a mocking sort of a tone.... but mebbe i was just mistaken, no? ^.^), Alynnia*McKinnon, nicole, Absinthe Sythe (Harry's got his reasons for being concerned.... you'll find out later! ^_~), and Endovu. Whoo, twenty reviews in one chapter! That's a record for me! :D  
  
*****  
  
Ron shifted in his seat, his foot still jiggling, food still untouched. Breakfast had started-- he checked his watch-- twenty-seven and a half minutes ago and Draco still hadn't arrived. What was taking him so long, anyhow?  
  
"Ron..."  
  
He jumped at the small voice and light touch on his hand. "Oh. Morning, Ginny."  
  
"It really isn't your fault, you know."  
  
"I... What are you talking about?"  
  
"Harry told me, a few minutes ago. You've been looking tense all morning. He said you were talking in your sleep last night, too."  
  
Ron shrugged one shoulder. "I just don't like seeing people get hurt." Yes. That's it. He would've been that concerned over ANYONE. Just keep telling yourself that, Ron.  
  
Ginny smiled slightly. "I know. But... don't hurt YOURSELF over it, okay?"  
  
Ron made a face. "I'm not!"  
  
"You have before, though. You'd think you wouldn't be so compassionate with a temper like that, but--"  
  
"I don't have a temper!"  
  
Ginny covered her mouth delicately with her hand, trying not to laugh. Ron scowled and glared at her at the same time. She schooled her face back to a kind sort of solemnity. "I'm just saying that... Ron, be careful, okay? I really don't want to see you get hurt." Ron couldn't help smiling at her brown-eyed concern.  
  
"Okay. Now where the hell's Draco?"  
  
Ginny shrugged. "Still in the hospital wing, maybe?"  
  
Ron didn't bother knocking. He never did. Ron was not the knocking type. He was the burst-through-the-door-in-a-rush-of-enveloping-emotions-then- blush-and-apologize-when-he-sees-someone-naked type.  
  
"Draco, we need to-- oh." Ron blushed. Draco made a face.  
  
"What?" he demanded grumpily. He wasn't naked-- far from it. In fact, he only had one article of clothing missing from his body. The problem was, said clothing article was his shirt.  
  
A wide ray of early sunlight coming through window was shining on him from chin to thigh, casting both warmth and shadow over his small frame. Ron could see almost every bone on the boy's body, hips and ribs and collar bone jutting and rippling underneath his skin like sticks and pebbles thrown into a shallow river. His skin, warmed and brightened by sunlight, looked something like French Vanilla ice cream-- the expensive high- cholesterol kind. Ron wasn't sure what he should feel. Horrified by the bones and the indigo lines under Draco's eyes? Or fascinated (and aroused, though he refused to admit it) by all that skin?  
  
"What?" he asked again, sounding more panicked than angry this time. Ron snapped back to attention, but it was snapped away from him again when Draco crossed his arms moodily over his chest and shifted his weight, unconsciously pushing his narrow hips towards the red-head. Ron suddenly had to be thankful for loose-fitting robes. 'It's okay,' he told himself reassuringly, 'this happens to straight guys all the time. Just about anything can make one pitch a tent these days.' He noticed Draco was still watching him, and decided he ought to say something, fast.  
  
"You're really skinny," he blurted. Draco scowled and, to Ron's relief (and dismay, though, again, he refused to admit it), pulled his shirt on.  
  
"You're not exactly winning any body-building competitions either, Weasley." Ron ignored this and watched, fascinated, as delicate hands worked nimbly over the shirt buttons.  
  
"You didn't eat anything at dinner last night."  
  
Draco made a face. "So? I don't like that stuff."  
  
"You didn't eat that chocolate, either."  
  
"I hate chocolate."  
  
"And you fainted in the hall."  
  
"I'm anemic."  
  
"And you're REALLY skinny."  
  
"What are you getting at?"  
  
Ron paused. He didn't really know what to say next. If he hadn't known what an eating disorder was, would Draco? What if there really wasn't anything wrong with him? Maybe he really was just a picky anemic. Would he be insulted by Ron's suggesting that he had a problem? Ron took a deep breath. He had to at least try...  
  
"I was talking to Harry last night, and he told me about this... this thing. Where people stop eating to make themselves skinny."  
  
Draco blinked. His voice shook slightly when he next spoke. "And you're going to believe everything Potter says?"  
  
Ron chose to ignore this, stepping towards the other boy. Malfoy backed up until he was pressed against his hospital bed, eyes bigger than a house elf's.  
  
"Something's wrong with you, Draco, I know it. I don't really know what it is yet, but... I wanna help."  
  
Draco stood for a few moments, his mouth slightly open, and Ron was suddenly reminded of a cornered unicorn. He might've backed off if Draco's warmth and vulnerability hadn't given him such a strong urge not to.  
  
"Get out," Draco said, voice wet and shaking. Ron blinked at him. "I don't need help. I'm fine. Now get out."  
  
Ron stepped closer. "No."  
  
And so they stood, two wizards pressed up against eachother, each trying vainly to overpower the other with a heated body and an icy stare. Neither one could help noticing when the more sensitive parts of their anatomy brushed against one another through layers of fabric, but they continued the staring contest. Ron felt a hot tingling between his legs and knew what that meant. He hoped Draco wouldn't notice. He hoped Draco was looking down at the floor and not Ron's groin. He hoped Draco was grinning ferally about something other than his painfully obvious attraction to the blond boy. But when Draco made slow, sliding movements that rubbed his hips against the red head's erection, hope just grinned and flew out the window.  
  
Ron eyes went wide, and his mouth opened silently. His mind was in a haze now. He stared at the Slytherin blinkingly, trying to figure out when he had stopped trying to help Draco and Draco had begun helping him. Helping... He was supposed to be rescuing Malfoy, not screwing around-- literally. With some difficulty, he removed the hands that were now firmly holding his hips. A single blond eyebrow arched gracefully up at him.  
  
"Don't change the subject," Ron said, attempting to sound forceful. Malfoy smirked and pressed in closer.  
  
"Sometimes a subject change is a good thing, don't you think?" he purred, one long-fingered hand snaking between them. But Ron backed away again.  
  
"I wanna help you, you git, not fuck you!" It came out angrier than he'd intended. Draco smirked again.  
  
"You can help me by fucking me, then." Ron blushed suddenly.  
  
"I... that's not what I want to do, Malfoy," he said firmly. Draco leaned up and licked Ron's ear before whispering into it.  
  
"Your blatant hard-on is telling me otherwise."  
  
Ron blushed harder, but stood his ground. He was NOT going to let Draco embarass him. He was NOT going to throw the tiny Slytherin onto the bed and ravish him in ways he'd never imagined. And he was most certainly not going to pay attention to where the elegant white hands were traveling, down and down and down...  
  
... Oh, shit.  
  
Draco grinned. "My, but you've got a lot to be proud of," he murmered against Ron's neck, talented fingers working mercilessly through three layers of clothing. He listened to the somewhat unsteady rythm of Weasley's heavy breathing and tried to match it manually. His right hand continued its work while his left pulled the hem of the other boy's robe up high enough for it to be out of the way. He took his liesurely time with the buttons on Ron's pants, speeding up when the red head moaned something that sounded suspiciously like "Draco, please..."  
  
Malfoy's hand slipped inside Ron's jeans, fondling and petting until the panting in his ear stopped, two freckled hands clenched and wound themselves into his robes, and he felt something gooey on his fingers and the fabric of Weasley's boxer shorts.  
  
They looked up at eachother. For a few moments they just stared, trying to take in everything that had happened. For a moment Ron though that Malfoy might be embarassed, and then they'd both be in the same boat and they could forget about it and everything would go back to normal. But instead, Draco grinned and pulled his hand out of Weasley's pants. And licked his fingers.  
  
Ron's skin turned a colour to match the Gryffindor common room and fled, trying desperately to button the fly of his jeans on the way.  
  
*****  
  
Harry was waiting for him when he entered. He had been waiting, since breakfast. There were so many things he'd remembered that he had to tell Ron about-- other kinds of eating disorders, things not to say, things that might make it better, things that might make it worse, and why was Ron looking so damn flustered?  
  
Harry gave an odd look to the flushed cheeks, rumpled clothing, and well- near terrified expression that his friend wore. "Ron, we need to--"  
  
"Nothing!"  
  
Harry blinked, then raised an eyebrow. "Um, Ron?"  
  
Ron blushed, a lot, and clumsily avoided Harry's quizzical gaze. "I have to go," he blurted, then scrabbled off towards their dormitory.  
  
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK," he chanted, rushing towards his bed. He yanked off his pants, only to trip along the way and fall on his shoulder. He jumped up and went for his shoes first this time, throwing one over his shoulder in an attempt to take his anger and embarassment out on the wall behind him.  
  
"Ow!"  
  
Ron spun around to look at the source of the voice, only to lose his balance and fall on his other shoulder. "God dammit!" he yelled, remaining on the floor as he pulled off his other shoe and chucked it at the door. Harry ducked.  
  
"Ack! Jeeze, Ron, what'd I do?"  
  
"Nothing! Sorry!" Harry suspected that that might've been the angriest genuine apology he'd ever heard.  
  
"What happened? Did Draco do something to you?"  
  
Ron hesitated to blush even redder, then mumbled an answer in the negative. "We... I just... I tried to talk to him, but he wasn't listening."  
  
Harry raised and lowered one shoulder in a half-shrug and leaned against the doorway, absently rubbing the new lump on his head. "They can act like that sometimes."  
  
Ron scowled and rummaged through his trunk. "It's frustrating."  
  
"Yeah... What're you doing?"  
  
"Changing my pants, what the buggering hell's it look like?!"  
  
"Why, though?"  
  
Ron went red again. "I just... am. I got something on them."  
  
Harry blinked. "Like...?"  
  
"Like... It's none of your business!"  
  
"Christ, Ron, it was only a question!"  
  
"Well, it was a BAD question!"  
  
"How was it a BAD question?! And why are you avoiding the subject? And why are you fucking BLUSHING so much?"  
  
Ron blushed. "I'm not blushing..."  
  
Harry sighed. "What'd Malfoy do to you, Ron?"  
  
Ron looked at the floor and twiddled his fingers. "He did... things. Embarassing things. Um, less-than-heterosexual things."  
  
Harry's eyes were the size of quaffles. "You mean he... and you... in your pants?"  
  
Ron nodded and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Yeah."  
  
"Oh." Silence spanned the room a few moments, then, "Was it any good?"  
  
Ron glared at him.  
  
"Er, right. None of my business. Sorry."  
  
Sigh. "It was, though. I just kinda wish I hadn't... you know... early."  
  
Harry nodded, and was then struck with a sudden idea. "Wait, does this mean you're gay or something?"  
  
"No!" he yelled angrily. Then he made a face. "Maybe. I don't know. I mean, I still like girls, but he... I just... Gahh."  
  
Harry nodded again, both of them at a loss for words. They were quiet for a few minutes before Harry remembered why he'd wanted to talk to Ron in the first place. "Hey, Ron?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"You know how I told you about how anorexia is an eating disorder?"  
  
"Uh huh?"  
  
"Well, it's not the only one."  
  
*****  
  
A/N: Ahh, poor ickle Ronnikins came in his pants! *recalls some similar experiences had with premature ejaculation* Oi, some boys just cannot control themselves! :P Anyhow, review and i'll post sooner!! 


	5. By My Hands

Author's Note: My back hurts really bad. And i have way too many fic ideas for my own good... most of them involving Oliver Wood and characters that i have yet to see him paired with but still make sense somehow. This chapter's another raunchy one, so watch out youngun's! Mucho thanks-o toooo....  
  
Dana Malfoy, Zahrah Radcliffe, siw-wa, Winged Goddess, KT the Shimmer Skank (don't worry, Draco's wierd mood swings get explained later), alle, redrose2310, WildfireFriendship, Linteloteiel the Elf Slut, scarletwoman, Gisele S. Carvalho (voyeurish Harry? now THAT's what i call a smutfic idea! XD), Andrea, lollipop queen, Aloh Dark, HugeTolkeinFan (*sighs* i'll just just have to come up with my own expressive word-sound then, eh? ^_~), Makota (three cheers for Mr. Buzzy!! ^___^), Rue, and Lizard. Also thanks to all my pals who keep me goin', and to lovely Bakemon who puts up with all my crap. :P And i'd like to thank the Academy....  
  
*****  
  
Ron tapped down the stairway to the common room, passed through the portrait hole, and began to wander the halls, all with a hunk of the infamous chocolate clutched in one hand. "Don't back down, don't look back," he chanted to himself, looking around for the French Vanilla skin and shock of silvery hair. "Don't back down, don't look back. Don't back down, don't look back. Don't back down, don't look--"  
  
Ron stopped in his tracks. There he was, leaning against a wall, flanked by cronies and several giggling girls. Ron had a sudden surge of jealously, but he quickly supressed it (into the closet) and approached the frail boy. A blush climbed his neck at memories of that morning, but he forced himself to ignore both.  
  
"I need to talk to you, Malfoy," he said sternly. A single blond eyebrow arched delicately.  
  
"And just what would you call what we're doing, Weasley?"  
  
"Alone."  
  
Smirk. "I can't imagine what you'd have to have to say to me that can't be said here." The sarcasm and irony that dripped venemously off that statement made Ron's eye twitch.  
  
"You'd be suprised," he growled through clenched teeth. The two boys watched eachother for a few seconds before Ron turned and strode down the hall, knowing Draco well enough to know that he'd follow.  
  
"Where am I following you to?" he asked after a few minutes' walking side- by-side. "While I'm sure you know of quite a few good shagging spots, I doubt that your knowledge of Hogwarts Nooks and Crannies isn't nearly as extensive as mine, so if you'd just let me show the way..." Draco trailed off and let his right hand wander across the back of Ron's thigh. The latter jumped away from the tickling touch.  
  
"That's not... I don't want to--"  
  
"Of course you don't."  
  
"Would you quit smirking like you've just been crowned King of bloody Sexton?"  
  
"You know it turns you on."  
  
"Draco, shut UP!"  
  
"Ooh, I just love it when you get all domineering like that...!" Ron felt the wandering hand again, punctuated by a frail weight leaning against him slightly. He batted the hand away.  
  
"Quit doing that! I said I wanna talk to you, and that's what I'm gonna do!"  
  
"Well, I hope you like one-sided conversations, because my mouth is going to be occupied." He winked.  
  
Freckles nearly disappeared underneath the blush. "You have issues," he grumbled, and turned to face the door of...  
  
"A broom closet, Weasley?"  
  
"No one comes in here," he said irksomely, holding the door open.  
  
Smirk, again, as they entered the small room. "Know from experience?"  
  
Ron bristled suddenly. "Stop being horny for five minutes and fucking LISTEN for once!" he yelled angrily. "You're always running off or pushing away or pulling so close that I can't even SEE you anymore, and I'm sick of it! I need to talk to you, and you need to listen! Alright, already?!"  
  
Draco blinked. Leaned over. Pushed the door shut, charmed the lock. "What is it?"  
  
Ron took a deep breath. "Why don't you eat, Draco?"  
  
Scowl. "Why do you care?"  
  
Frown. "Why do you always avoid this subject?"  
  
"Why do you answers questions with questions?"  
  
"Why do you?"  
  
"Why does it matter?"  
  
"Why do you pretend it doesn't?"  
  
They glared at eachother for several minutes. Ron absently noticed that there seemed to be a lot of unannounced staring contests in their relationship, then mentally kicked himself for calling their relationship a relationship.  
  
"You need to eat," Ron finally said softly.  
  
"I don't need to do shit," Draco hissed back. Their faces were close enough for a passionate kiss or a venemous bite. Possibly both.  
  
"You're gonna eat," Ron said sternly. "You're gonna get better. And you're gonna live through this, like it or not." He let a few more seconds slide by for dramatic effect, then slowly brought the hunk of chocolate up to their eye level. Draco blinked.  
  
"I hope you aren't expecting me to eat that, Weasel."  
  
Ron maintained both eye contact and meaningful silence.  
  
"Well, I'm not going to. I don't care what you think or do, you can't make me eat that!"  
  
Ron broke off a thumb-sized piece. He pulled a single lithe hand towards him, opened it, and pressed the sinful object in the smooth, narrow palm. Draco just looked at it.  
  
"I'll force-feed you if I have to, Draco, but you're eating this chocolate before I leave."  
  
Cold eyes burned, and the blond wizard threw the tiny candy across the room, rage lining his features and actions. Ron's eye twitched. This was going to be difficult.  
  
He snapped off another chunk and held it out towards the other boy. "Eat." His tone was simple and as calm as he could make it.  
  
"No." Just as simple, but he wasn't even trying for calm.  
  
Ron lunged forward then, closing the few inches that held them apart by grabbing for Draco's throat. The blond panicked, thinking Ron would strangle him. But the hand moved up to his face, trying to pull his mouth open. Draco pulled away violently. Ron pressed impossibly closer, squeezing the hollows of pale cheeks in a feeble attempt to pry open his jaw. But the sharp bones belied his strength, and his teeth remained stubbornly clenched together, his head turning and yanking away from warm, calloused, freckly hands.  
  
Ron had to either think fast, or not think at all. Being a Weasley (who wasn't Percy), he automatically went with the latter. He shoved the chocolate inside his own mouth, forgot to hesitate, and pressed his lips to Draco's.  
  
They froze. The broom closet was silent, as well as the one inside Ron's head, for the moment. It was just these two shocked, determined, stubborn boys that kissed eachother with their eyes open and their mouths and hands held completely still. Ron forgot about his non-thinking plan and, for a moment, had no idea what to do.  
  
And then Ron's closet burst open with a flurry of noise and movement. Voices telling him to pull away you little faggot, to stick your tongue in his mouth you know you want to, to give him the chocolate, to eat the chocolate, to just stop and think for a minute, to screw thinking and fuck him already, to kiss him kiss him kiss him.  
  
And then Draco was kissing him.  
  
Ron felt the lips sucking and moving across his and he responded, telling the voices in his head to shut it because this felt a lot nicer than he'd expected. In fact, the only thing even remotely not-nice-feeling about this was the painful heat between his legs. And that wasn't even a BAD pain.  
  
A sharp tongue wedged its way between his lips, and he took the opportunity to slide the chocolate into Draco's mouth. Ron could hear a moan, and in his present state of mind he couldn't tell who had uttered the emotion- loaded sound. He absently put another chunk of the candy in his mouth and passed it to the lithe Slytherin. He heard another moan as sugar and cocoa melted between them, and this time he knew the noise came from them both.  
  
After awhile, Ron didn't know how long they'd been there. All he could tell was that the chocolate had been consumed, their shirts and robes were in heaps on the floor, and he was pressed so close and Draco moved so well that the searing, aching sensation in his groin was becoming unbearable. Moaning, biting, grunting, grinding, promising, licking-- it was all happening here, now. Ron didn't care anymore why he'd gone there in the first place.  
  
But something changed. It took him several seconds to realize this, then several more to figure out what it was. Draco had stopped moving. Ron pulled back and opened his eyes to a look of wide-eyed horror. Draco's lowed lip quivered. Ron cocked his head and looked concerned.  
  
"Draco?" he asked quietly, rubbing his hands along the skinny upper arms. "Are you alright?"  
  
Draco shook his head, panting and looking completely terrified. His eyes darted around the room, and in the second or two it took Ron to figure out what the problem was, the blond head was turned away from him and an index and middle finger went shakily to Draco's mouth.  
  
"No!" Ron yelled firmly, gripping tiny wrists and pulling them away. "You are NOT going to do this to yourself!"  
  
Draco screeched. And clawed. And cried. And beat balled fists against a bare freckled chest. But Ron just pulled him onto the floor and cradled him in his lap, holding him and stroking his hair until he could feel the hiccupping breaths and fingernails on his shoulders and hot tears smeared against his neck and left ear.  
  
"I can't fucking do this," Draco sobbed, the fear and exhaustion and depression evident in his suddenly small voice.  
  
"I know," Ron said softly, kissing the top of his head. "That's why I'm here."  
  
"That's not what I mean! I can't get better, Ron! I just... you don't understand..." Draco trailed off, and Ron could feel the boy curling further into himself.  
  
"Yes, you can! Harry knows all about this stuff, and--"  
  
"It's not a matter of physical recovery... it's a matter of not being sure what I'd have to live for if I didn't have this."  
  
Ron blinked. He hadn't realized how much control this could have over someone's life. "What haven't you got to live for?"  
  
Draco pulled back and looked him in the eye. His face was flushed and wet and utterly confused. "What?"  
  
"What's so horrible about your life that you'd want to get rid of it?"  
  
Draco looked away. "You wouldn't understand."  
  
"Maybe I will."  
  
"I don't want you to."  
  
"Maybe I should."  
  
Draco sighed. "It's like... there's nothing I want to do with my life, really, but my destiny's been made up for me anyway."  
  
"Isn't that what destiny is? Pre-determined?"  
  
"No, I mean... My future, my life, is all set up for me, and when you get down to it, it's Death Eaters or death. I haven't got control over anything in my life except this, do you know that?" Draco's tone was oddly conversational. Like he was talking about a cleaning spell in Witch Weekly.  
  
Ron wanted to say "You have control over ME," but didn't, because he wasn't quite ready to throw himself that far just yet.  
  
"Do you always have to have control?" he murmered instead, burying his nose in Draco's hair. He smelled of rain, sage, and black leather. The latter scent and the sudden realization that hey, there's a cute boy in your lap! made something inside of him twitch hotly. He ignored it.  
  
"I'm a Slytherin," Draco answered shortly. He trailed cold fingers down Ron's chest, causing the redhead to shiver lightly. "I think I hurt you."  
  
Ron was momentarily confused. That felt so nice, how could he possibly be hurt? Then he looked down and saw long scratch marks, felt the sore spots that would surely turn out to be bruises. "Oh. Don't worry about it."  
  
Draco smirked. "Don't try and be brave, Weasley, I know you're in pain caused by my hands." There was so much pride in the cool voice that Ron had to supress a shudder.  
  
"Since when did we go back to last name basis, Malfoy?" he asked, half- playfully.  
  
"Since when did we switch to a first name basis in the first place?"  
  
Ron laughed and pulled Draco closer, ignoring the eye-roll he recieved in return.  
  
***** A/N: Finally. Jeezus, this is taking a long time... It's also getting pretty dirty at parts, eh? It'd prolly get dirtier, if it weren't for all this anti-NC17-osity. Not that i don't respect their decision-- after all, i've got a little sister who's just getting into HPff, and i'd like to keep her as un-corrupted as possible for the time being, thankyouverymuch. Err, right... review! ^_^ 


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